


From Rim Space With Love

by manic_intent



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Space Pirates, That Space Pirate AU where Erik is an outlaw, and Charles is a highly placed civilian government official, and Erik kidnaps Charles every two years because reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Captain Logan! Captain Logan!"</p><p>The skinny cadet skitters to a halt next to Logan in the rec room, red-faced and a little out of breath. Logan eyes him with a faint frown, sunk deep into a stimm couch, thumbing up the rim of his captain's hat. He's just come off a torturous fifteen-hour shift, and healing factor or not, Logan's starting to feel it. Warp space is hell on his nerves.</p><p>"Settle down, bub. What burned your tail... eh..." Logan concentrates briefly. "Cadet McCoy? Hey. Your blue's showing. Settle <i>down</i>."</p><p>McCoy takes in several deep breaths, and the blue fur starting to thread out of his skin sinks back in. "Sir, yes sir. Message from X-Command, sir."</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Rim Space With Love

**Author's Note:**

> for @dikaryonic who asked for a Space Pirates (Not Firefly crossover) Cherik AU (dikaryonic likes Firefly, but just wanted something a little different). 
> 
> How awesome is the Guardians of the Galaxy trailer? XD;; Unfortunately I know probably next to nothing about GotG, and from what little I wiki'd I realized that I was going to massively spoiler myself for the film so I'll rather not touch the wiki further. Umm. I guess this follows the look and feel of the GotG trailer content, but with space outlaw Cherik. 
> 
> There are no DOFP spoilers in this fic.

I.

"Captain Logan! Captain Logan!"

The skinny cadet skitters to a halt next to Logan in the rec room, red-faced and a little out of breath. Logan eyes him with a faint frown, sunk deep into a stimm couch, thumbing up the rim of his captain's hat. He's just come off a torturous fifteen-hour shift, and healing factor or not, Logan's starting to feel it. Warp space is hell on his nerves.

"Settle down, bub. What burned your tail... eh..." Logan concentrates briefly. "Cadet McCoy? Hey. Your blue's showing. Settle _down_."

McCoy takes in several deep breaths, and the blue fur starting to thread out of his skin sinks back in. "Sir, yes sir. Message from X-Command, sir." 

Logan groans, and shifts his cap back down over his eyes. "I ain't here. Tell them that." 

"We're in the middle of _warp_ ," McCoy says uncomfortably. "I don't think that X-Command is going to believe that you're nowhere on board-"

"Yeah, yeah." Logan sighs. Seems that they had picked up cadets with spine during his last visit to the Academy, more's the pity. "What's burning their tail, then?" 

"Private message, sir, deep encryption. Captain's quarters." McCoy's tone turns slightly reproachful. "First Lieutenant Storm says that you probably switched off your implant, told me to find you in the rec room, sir." 

"Right then," Logan grumbles, hauling himself off the stimm couch and stretching. He feels the come down immediately even as he heads out of the rec space, rubbing a knuckle into his eyes, the world growing back into ultrafocus around him: the skin-fur scent of McCoy's fur, the new starch of the Cadet's uniform, the disinfectant tang of the filtered air around them. 

His _F.F. Wolverine_ runs on a skeleton crew in warp space, at least, so the conflicting scents are far dimmer than usual, but still enough to give Logan a headache this deep in the hyperreality of a warp jump. Concentrating on keeping his stomach steady and his head together, Logan glowers at the gleaming corridor as he picks out his way through sheer habit rather than anything else, with the damned Cadet on his heels.

"Y'don't have to follow me, McCoy."

The Cadet swallows audibly. "First Lieutenant Storm said to ensure that you made it to your quarters, Captain. Said that you usually feel poorly during a warp jump."

Logan snorts. "'Poorly' isn't fucking half of it. I feel like I've been run over by a cruiser-class warship, that's what it feels like." Fucking Storm. Without McCoy, Logan would probably have been tempted to sneak off to another warm, quiet room to lie down for a while more and wish he were dead.

"Perhaps the infirmary-"

"Perhaps nothing. Just shut up, please, everything's too fucking loud in warp space."

He waves McCoy away irritably when they come to a stop outside his quarters, and as he lets himself in, he yawns again and briefly considers curling up in bed, but over his desk, the viewfinder hums softly as it comes to life, and Logan arches an eyebrow as Admiral Rogers' stubbornly honest face comes into full definition.

"Sorry about troubling you during your downtime, Captain," Rogers says briskly, "But we have a Code-Orange situation that's a parsec jump away from your warp-loc."

"Code-Orange?" Logan raises his eyebrows. "What the fuck happened, Rogers? Academy burned down?" 

Rogers frowns at him in disapproval. "Professor Charles Xavier was kidnapped from X-Command-" 

"Oh." Logan rolls his eyes. "That's it?"

"You don't seem particularly concerned. Are you not his favourite protege?"

"Rogers, you're new to this sector of space," Logan says dryly, "So you probably didn't know. Let me guess. Whoever did the hit just blasted right through all our defences and then took off in a purple and red skimmer?" 

"You _know_ the culprit?" 

"Bub, it's the worst-kept secret in this bit of the 'verse," Logan drawls, and adds, when Rogers' frown deepens further, "Look. Don't get your tights into a twist. In a few days or so, there'll be an anonymous ping over the hypernet and we'll pick him up unharmed from a dropship over at a specified location. The Prof is gonna be _fine_. This happens every couple of years or so."

"It _does_?" 

"Yeah." Logan stifles a yawn. "I'll look, if you like, but we'll be better off waiting. Saves everyone effort, hyperfuel, energy, and casualties." 

Rogers seems torn between anger and sheer curiosity. " _Who_ is this regular kidnapper?" 

"Uh," Thick fingers scrub through Logan's non-regulation beard. "Think he calls himself 'Magneto'." Rogers' frown deepens. "Yeah, I know, what the fuck, eh? Outlaws nowadays. I heard there was some kid in the six-one-six quadrant that calls himself 'Starlord', hah-"

"Magneto... _Erik Lehnsherr_?" 

"Yeah, that's him." 

"He's wanted across nine-tenths of the known 'verse on twelve counts of hyperspace terrorism!" 

"I don't think anyone's keeping count anymore," Logan says wearily. "All right, Admiral. I'll get the Prof back. Gimme a week."

"You have a week, Captain Logan," Rogers scowls. "And I expect results, after all that flippancy. Arrest Erik Lehnsherr as well, and bring him to justice." 

The spatial link goes dead, and Logan groans, ambling over to slouch into the bed. "Ship, give me First Lieutenant Storm."

"Connection confirmed, Captain Logan." 

"How's the bridge, Stormy?"

"Warp neutral, Captain." Storm's tone is brisk and professional. "Any problems?"

"Yeah. We're being peeled off the L'sene mission for now. Jump back into prime space. Got a new job to do." 

"Sir?"

Logan lets out a dry laugh. "Lehnsherr's come and gone, Lieutenant, and the new Admiral's all in a panic. Do a deep scan when you pop into prime space and find someplace to hide our sig. You know the drill."

Storm lets out a sigh. "The Professor's been kidnapped again?"

"Yep." 

"He really should start setting some boundaries with Lehnsherr."

"You ain't gonna hear any objections from me down that line. Just do what High Command wants." 

"Ten-four. Initiating drop, Captain." 

"Right. Wake me up in a few hours."

II.

"This is really very juvenile of you, Erik." Age has only made Charles' scowl more adorable rather than less, Erik thinks, as he presses a kiss over the edge of his full, downward turned lips.

" _I'm_ juvenile?" Erik drawls, trailing kisses further down, chuckling as Charles shifts against him and curls his hands up eagerly into Erik's hair. "I wouldn't have to pull this 'stunt' if you would only join me." 

"You're fighting over a... mmph... cause that no longer has any relevancy," Charles says, his breaths turning hitched as Erik noses open the high collar of Charles' maroon academic robes. "Human - aah - humanity and mutant, Erik, would you just-" 

"You were saying about mutants?" Erik asks innocently. The clasps of Charles' robes are made conveniently of metal, and he undoes them easily, using them to unwrap Charles even as he kisses his way down. 

"This isn't the nineteen sixties, when there were real civil rights matters of - aah - account. You're chasing a ghost that isn't there." 

"And how is your Great Experiment going, _Charles_?" Erik nips Charles above his heart, a little more sharply than he intended - Charles gasps and squirms. "No mutants in High Command, segregated ships, a higher than normal max-sec mutant incarceration rate?" 

"Things are _changing_ ," Charles tips up Erik's chin, but whatever he sees on Erik's face turns his irritation into a wry smile. "And you are _not_ helping by causing so much property damage to the Academy once every two or three years. You're positively _incorrigible_."

"You do not return my calls," Erik drawls, and unclasps Charles' belt with a gesture, flicking the leather and metal buckle aside. "You do not leave the Academy save to make the occasional jump to Zero sector to speak to High Command... what am I meant to do?" 

"Something more civilised, for a start," Charles is starting to scowl again. "Honestly, Erik. I really should be angry with you."

"Do tell." Erik pointedly cups Charles' growing arousal with a hand. "You did tend to fly into these distressingly violent rages."

" _I_ fly into _violent_ rages?" 

"You hit me once," Erik recalls. 

"Oh yes," Charles sniffs. "When I get terribly angry, I hit people - very rarely! And after which, I usually feel awful about it and apologize. When _you_ get terribly angry, you destroy _cruisers_."

"Maybe I feel awful about it afterwards and apologize to the cruiser," Erik grins sharply, and laughs as Charles growls and shoves at him until he rolls on top, pushing one leg between Erik's thighs and dragging him close to kiss him. 

Erik doesn't waste any more time. He uses every trick that he knows to strip Charles of his clothes without destroying them, but his concentration starts to fray where his own clothes are concerned, particularly when Charles gets that wicked mouth of his over Erik's cock. By the 'verse, there was nothing as hellishly hot as Charles when Charles is in the mood, nothing quite so filthy as watching the prim-and-proper Academy Professor turn into a smirking minx as Erik starts to unravel under his touch. 

He takes Charles roughly on the bed first, with Charles' ankles pressed high on Erik's shoulders, Charles' red mouth buried in the pillows to stifle his cries, and then Erik has him again against the bulkhead, shoving him up an inch with each rough thrust, laughing as Charles has no choice but to moan, then wail, and finally scream his name when he comes. The instant lash of pleasure that loops sharp into Erik's mind each time that he pushes Charles over the brink is as damnably, blissfully addictive as ever. 

"I'm beginning to think," Charles tells him sleepily afterwards, when they're curled back in bed together, "That you time your jumps with the advent of a new Admiral, just to traumatize the poor man - or woman - early." 

"Hm, no," Erik admits, nuzzling Charles' neck, too sated and content to guard his words. "I'm heading to rim space. Wanted to see you before I went."

" _Rim_ space?" Charles repeats, appalled. "But that's... _unexplored_!"

"Yes, therefore the _definition_ , I do believe-" 

"You'll head into unmapped space? What for? Have you grown tired of living?" 

Erik groans. "Maybe I should have told you this _after_ -" 

"After what?" Charles growls. "What, you _kidnapped_ me just for a _quick fuck_ before you bumble into _unknown space_?"

"Not just a _quick_ -"

"Do you even realize what's out there? Diseases are the least of it! Warp wells, unmapped leystreams - _reavers_ -"

"Aye, reavers." Erik agrees quietly. 

"You're hunting reavers? You've never been interested in them before." 

"I have my reasons. A few suspicions." Erik eyes Charles carefully for a moment, then adds, "We rescued a stranded freighter four months back. Reavers hit them on the edge of eight-five-two quadrant, a parsec from A'thelcalas. They left the r'oon passengers alone, and the vaishravana, and the humans, but they took the two mutants who were on board. Non-presenting mutants, I should add." 

"They left _r'oon_ alone?" Charles sits up, not in the least conscious of his nudity, chewing on his lower lip. "But I've heard that... out of the Free Zones, r'oon slaves fetch their weight in credits." 

"Aye, that they do. Reavers have _only_ been taking mutants. Been that way for the last three years." Erik's lip curls. "Funny how you don't see that in the High Command infospace." 

"But why would they even...?"

"No idea yet. But I intend to find out," Erik says darkly.

"Just you?" Charles scowls again. "One skimmer, against the reaver fleet? You're _insane_."

"I have my friends." 

"All right, I'm... Erik, let me make a few calls. Maybe I can-"

"No." Erik drags Charles back down against him. "Your brand of interference would have me wait for years _more_ while you shuttle between High Command and your pacifist mutant _friends_. I have a lead, and I'm going to follow it." 

"Maybe I can help," Charles says dryly, "By coming with you." 

" _No_. This is _rim space_ , Charles. You've never been outside of the Free Zone, let alone in the-"

"Aren't you always pestering me to join you?"

"Not _now_!"

"If you take me with you, then you'll get all the support that you'll need," Charles says mildly. 

Erik frowns at him. "You're one of the Infinity Adjuncts of the Free Zone. The _civilian_ version of High Command. If I make off with you towards rim space, they'll chase me with everything that they have."

"Exactly." Charles grins at him. "That should be a fair distraction for the reavers, shouldn't it?" 

It's an insane idea, a particularly _Charles_ sort of insanity, at that, but Erik supposes that it's... logical, in a terrible sort of way. If he was willing to risk Charles' hide. "It's too dangerous for you." 

"I'll like to see you get me off this ship if I don't want to leave," Charles says pointedly, tapping at his temple with two fingers, and Erik lets out a deep sigh. He had always known that Charles would be the death of him.

III.

"We're getting hailed, Captain," Comms officer Wagner informs him.

"Accept incoming transmission." Logan settles back into the Captain's chair, and grins when Lehnsherr's face appears over the wide viewfinder projected in the bridge. "Lehnsherr. You've managed to piss off yet _another_ Admiral, congratulations. Give us back the Professor, we'll exchange some fire, and then we can call it quits. Same deal."

"I'm afraid that this time there's been a change of plans, Captain Logan," Lehnsherr says briskly. "The Professor and I will be making a detour." 

Frowning, Logan leans forward in his seat. "Don't fuck with me, Lehnsherr. Fun's over. If you don't return the Professor, you're not going to be dealing with just me next. You'll be dealing with all of the Free _Fleet_ , and they're not gonna be half as understanding."

"'Fucking' with you has never been on the cards, as it were," Lehnsherr says dryly. "Catch me if you can, Captain." 

The transmission winks out, even as Logan lets out a startled oath, and at the lower tier, Wagner says tightly, "Captain, target skimmer is cycling into warp drive. Do we engage?"

"No. Can't risk the Professor while a warp drive's powering up." What the fuck was Lehnsherr playing at? "Put a track sig on them. See where they're headed and jump after them. We'll try and catch them then," he adds, with a grimace, knowing that it was going to be a slim chance. Lehnsherr is really fucking slippery when he wants to be. 

"Ten-four, Captain." Wagner's hands start to fly over the controls, even as Logan lets out a long, deep sigh and sinks back into his seat, rubbing a palm over his face. The new Admiral is _not_ going to be pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> Just watched DOFP. How awesome was it? :D So many feels! 
> 
> Accepting Cherik prompts on twitter @manic_intent. Usual rules apply: I don't write continuations to fics I've already done, I don't write rape/dubcon and major character death. I'm a very vanilla writer, actually. :o


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